


annually

by abbysragna



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Fire, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Prostitution, Red String of Fate, Reincarnation, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates, Underage Prostitution, Violence, but it’s not gonna be all that happy either, it happens in the first life, its not supposed to be angst, major character death is not that big really, not in the main timeline, not really - Freeform, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24156550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbysragna/pseuds/abbysragna
Summary: “Over and over again, year after year, I’ll wait for you. And, yeah, it’ll happen either way because we were dumb, but I swear I’ll never have eyes for anyone else, ‘Kaashi.“I’d choose you again and again, forever.”Akaashi and Bokuto live under a reincarnation curse as a punishment for previous actions.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	1. Lost Memories

**Author's Note:**

> i keep writing on what-ifs and i need to stop,, i added like 6-700 more words because of a what if lmaoo
> 
> idrk where this au came from,, i saw a tumblr thing and was like “wow same” then it was, “hey what if it was bokuaka but completely different?” and BOOM, here we are. thanks brain

In all of his conscious years, Akaashi had not once questioned his close friendship with Bokuto. Their friendship was as natural as the tendency to breathe- they coexisted together, flawlessly. They never fought. They never had large scale disagreements. They were simply perfect.

And not once did it cross his mind to doubt such an obvious truth.

The day started as any other had in his seemingly perfect life. He’d wake up, brush his teeth, ignore his hair, get dressed, and leave his apartment to see Bokuto leaning on the railing with his signature, bright enthusiasm, only slightly dimmed by the ball cap and mask he wore to hide his identity.

“Akaashiiiii! G’Morning!”

“Whoever could that impossibly loud voice belong to, I wonder.” Bokuto mocked offense to Akaashi’s lighthearted jab, his hand splayed over his heart dramatically.

“Akaashi! Rude! Good morning to you too, ya sourpuss!” Akaashi scoffs lightly, stomach fluttering in a familiar, painful manner. He felt as though his stomach was contracting, and he felt light and airy, as well as the burning feeling of vomiting.

“Good morning.” And as if it was the first time meeting Bokuto, Akaashi remembers everything that day.

He remembers everything from every small event to the more important ones. He felt a dreaded yet wonderful yearning in himself in the way Bokuto threw his arm around Akaashi’s shoulders on the way to Akaashi’s university, his skin prickling and igniting under the arm. In the way that Bokuto’s hands lingered when he’d jammed his finger and had Akaashi tape them, after his practice with the Jackals. In the way that Bokuto would call on him for a toss when the two did extra practice despite both of them having graduated high school, in the way that Bokuto sought him out at all hours of the day, in the way that Bokuto remained a constant in his daily routine despite both of their filled schedules.

Bokuto’s touch burned him pleasantly, his skin feeling cold when Bokuto stopped, his every touch hitting some long lost, hidden chord in his chest that sent his innards into a flurry of tightness and shivers. And he comes to the stilling realization that maybe, just maybe, he’s interested in Bokuto.

He quickly brushes the thought aside, though. While he knows that Bokuto is open to all relationships, and that surely Bokuto wouldn’t stop being friends with him, he wasn’t actually interested in finding out. He wasn’t sure he was even interested in Bokuto, so he pushed the thoughts and feelings aside, pouring his focus back into the ball that he was supposed to be setting for Bokuto.

“Bokuto-san, here you go.” Bokuto whoops, and begins his approach. Tossing the ball, Akaashi feels that with the ball, he's pouring his feelings into an outlet, and effectively erasing them before they begin to plague his mind. As his fingers detach completely, he feels the success in cutting off his heart, feeling as though he’s relieved some oppressive heat from his shoulders.

The ball shoots straight down onto the line, and the impact is enough to ensure Akaashi that his worries have been dwindled.

“Akaashi? Are you alright?”

Akaashi had stopped in the middle of the road, the circle of homes abandoned. All of them looked very similar, much in the same state, but this specific house felt… different.

He stares at the rundown house. It looks as though nobody has bothered to maintain it since it was abandoned, or even built, and his heart strings pull him to the little house.

It was a shambled wreck, vines growing up the sides of the chipped and broken stone walls. The house was easily a century old- maybe even two. Despite it, Akaashi felt an insistent, overwhelming need to go into the house, and greet his family, despite it not being his home. And it didn’t feel as though he had to greet his current family. He felt a hole in his heart and the thought of his family, and his confusion only grew.

He felt the desire to make dinner for his family, for his neighbors, anyone. He started weeping, and Bokuto simply stood silently next to him as they stared at the old stone house, one feeling the need to enter and do… something or whatever it is he doesn’t know what. The other only observed the house with a sad, recognition and reverence that nobody could have expected from the loud boy.

“Ah- I wouldn’t go if I were you, Bokuto-san.”

“Huh? Why not?” Akaashi squinted and scrutinized the road.

“I’m… not sure. But, don’t go.” Bokuto opens his mouth, either to laugh or remark at his statement, but before he could, there were screams as a car came skidding through the intersection, crashing into a light post near them.

“What the fuck?” Bokuto laughs nervously.

Akaashi is sweating rather heavily. He’s unsure why he knew that if they crossed something bad would happen, but he knows he doesn’t hallucinate the chill of fear that licks down his spine at the time.

Akaashi’s so consumed in his confused state of fear that he almost doesn’t feel the sharp tug on his wrist. Bokuto is watching with pleading eyes.

“C’mon, Akaashi. I’m sure we’ll hear about this on the news later. Let’s just get home for now, yeah?”

True enough, they later learn that the driver was a drunk man. His condition was left unannounced, which Akaashi isn’t sure he prefers, if he’s completely honest.

When he consults Oikawa about the events, his friend gasps dramatically and says that he must have died in a car crash in his previous life, and that maybe he’d lived in the same house he’d cried at. Akaashi had scoffed and brushed it off, but deep down he genuinely thought about it.

“Akaashi-kun, please go out with me!” A girl with short blonde hair bows to him, arms outstretched with a heart filled to the brim with chocolates.

Bokuto had come to pick him up from his university classes when the girl had stopped him. He gently gains her attention before rejecting her.

“I’m very sorry, but I’m not interested in being with anybody currently.” The girl looks up at him with mournful eyes.

“I… see. I’m sorry then, please forget this!” She bows hurriedly, Akaashi having to calm the nervous girl.

“It’s alright, please stop bowing, it’s really alright.”

When the girl leaves, Akaashi still has the chocolate that the girl insisted he have- “At the very least, please enjoy them! I want to be a baker once I graduate, so if you could simply tell me you enjoyed them, I’d be happy! They can be friendship chocolates!”- and he feels infinitely lighter than he had when the girl had called him out.

Bokuto pops up from the corner. “Ooooh, ‘Kaashi the heartbreaker! How sly. You even kept them!” Bokuto laughs, poking at Akaashi’s sides. Akaashi fidgets, fingers tightening on the box.

“I only have it because she insisted that I enjoy them. She said she wants to be a baker, so I assume she’s hoping that I enjoy them as friendship chocolates, because if I enjoy them I guess that will be helpful for her confidence,” Akaashi answers as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Bokuto stares at him, obviously straining himself. He breaks his facade, and begins laughing loudly.

“That’s really selfish, what the heck-!” Bokuto laughs until his sides hurt and Akaashi is threatening to not toss extra for him.

“Akaashiiiiiii, I’m only kidding! I’m sorry, don’t be mad, pleaseeeee?” Bokuto throws on the best pair of puppy dog eyes he can, and Akaashi snorts.

“You’re not forgiven. Go die.” It’s a lie. They both know it is. He then spots the bag hanging on Bokuto’s arm. “You also received chocolates so you can’t call me selfish for accepting chocolate without dating them.”

Bokuto snorts. “First of all, I wasn't calling you selfish, ‘kay? Secondly, these are strictly friendship chocolates- I got a lot of them from Hinata! But actually most of them are from the Jackals! They aren’t romantic chocolates, we’re all just friends!”

The thought of Bokuto actually accepting someone has his heart clenching, palms sweating profusely. He considers himself dating Bokuto, and that he wouldn’t mind dating him. And all at once, his eyes start to burn, his chest tightens bordering on painful, and his vision is swimming. He drops to his knees, chocolates hitting the ground, scattering in the hall. His hands are covering his ears as they start to ring, his fingers gripping his hair, pulling nearly hard enough to pull his hair out. His body instinctively curls into a ball, his legs drawing up to shield his chest down. As far as he knows he isn’t yelling- his throat feels too dry and too hoarse already. He feels as though he is panting, though, chest heaving out labored breaths.

He vaguely registers Bokuto calling his name from the static in his senses, Bokuto’s hands pulling him close to his chest, holding him in his lap, his arms being rubbed to stimulate blood flow. What he does manage to register is Bokuto’s face, twisted in grief, knowledge and realization bleeding from his expression. In the nearly thirty seconds that his senses spazzed, Akaashi’s life flashed before his eyes.

As well as many pictures. Many different landscapes, many different people, many similar Bokuto’s, the only consistency in the pictures. Bokuto holding his hand, Bokuto playing with his hair, Bokuto above him in the low light of some room shirtless, Bokuto-

The pictures stop, and his senses are nearly immediately returned to normal.

He hears Bokuto whispering sweet things into his hair, his arms locked tightly around the setter’s upper body. Akaashi looks up to meet Bokuto’s eyes, and when he does, the pictures are back in perfect clarity, appearing as naturally as though they were memories from the day prior.

Tears fall from his eyes without his knowledge and Bokuto’s own eyes tear up at the sight. He feels Bokuto muttering apologies into his hair, his hands rubbing his back until Akaashi stops shaking.

“It’s natural, just let it happen. Though it is earlier this time, you'll be alright. It’s just your brain trying to comprehend the memories. Just breathe, Jiji, c’mon, it’s alright.” When Akaashi lifts his head once more to meet Bokuto’s gaze, Bokuto’s face seems to overlap with the pictures. Bokuto gives him a sad smile, and Akaashi’s tears only fall faster.

“Bokuto-san, what was that?”


	2. memory 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> violence warning!  
> fire, angst, death, and extremely slight gore (non graphic)  
> enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i already typed out everything but ao3 said i have no wifi rights and cutout so i lost it lmfao
> 
> for spoilers/clarifications check the bottom notes

For the following months, Akaashi sees the pictures burning his vision whenever Bokuto does something that evokes a heavy emotion from him. Bokuto explained the bare minimum the first time it happened, in his university corridor. Bokuto explains what he remembers after the first full memory came to his mind, practically electrocuting him.

The first time it happened Akaashi got lucky- he was simply with Bokuto in his university dorm, maybe a month or two after the pictures first showed up, his former captain rambling on about his practice with the Jackals. Akaashi was tidying his living room, in no real rush to finish. They were enjoying the simple domesticity that comes with being a newly labeled couple, when Bokuto had sighed about wanting to move out into the middle of nowhere once his career was finished.

“I was thinking of dragging you along too, ‘Kaashi! And don’t say something about us breaking up because I’m never ever gonna leave you alone now that I’ve finally got you. You’re stuck with me, now!” The grin that he adorned made a domestic, loving warmth bubble in Akaashi’s chest, as he thought over his words. He shudders, and drops the book he’d just picked up from the floor as if it had burned him. Bokuto gapes, before his eyes are lit with recognition.

“Akaashi! Sit down!” He rushes over, forcing Akaashi into a sitting position on his couch. Akaashi’s leg muscles tense and loosen at no set rate. His eyes are squeezed shut, sweat dripping down his face, his fingers curled tightly around Bokuto’s shoulders, the latter still forcing Akaashi to stay seated.

“Bokuto-san, it hurts, please make it stop-“ He’s breathing heavily, wheezing as if he’d just finished a five set volleyball match.

“Akaashi, I can’t, I don’t know how… I’m so sorry, baby, just bear with it for a few minutes.” Akaashi grinds his teeth and kicks at Bokuto, who grunts in retaliation.

“Jesus, Akaashi!”

His eyes burn, and he’s seeing the pictures at the forefront of his mind again. Akaashi only fights it harder, blunt nails digging into Bokuto’s shoulders, arms, anywhere. His legs are pushing into Bokuto’s abdomen as hard as he can, and one solid kick does end up having Bokuto winded.

“Akaashi, please! You can’t fight it! It won’t stop- trust me and just calm down already!”

No, no- this is scary. He didn’t want whatever this was! The pain in his head was unbearable and it was only getting worse. This was worse than scary, it was downright terrifying. This was impossible, he doesn’t want to go through with this- thing!

He doesn’t stop kicking at Bokuto until he finally goes limp, losing the mental fight with his memories, just as Bokuto had said.

Akaashi is in a field. All of the flowers are cherry blossom colored, and he does see cherry blossom trees.

What’s most shocking is the gorgeous mountain range that Akaashi can see in the background. It’s downright gorgeous, all tall peaks, and gorgeous greens, browns, and greys. He can’t even see some of the peaks, the mountains being so tall that the peaks are hidden behind the clouds. Everything is gorgeous.

And it also isn’t Tokyo.

Akaashi looks left and right, trying to understand how he went from being in his apartment, in Tokyo, with his boyfriend, to being in a pink field of gorgeous colors and scenery with mountains and no boyfriend in sight. He’s breathing heavily again- he knows because he’s freaking out. It's obvious enough, seeing his condition. He sees nothing but a wide expanse of life, and he’s almost moved by the stark contrast from his normal life.

He’s… in the middle of nowhere. The swaying of the wind lulls his nerves, and he’s calm once more. Well, not exactly calm- his heart is racing, still above his normal resting heart rate, but he’s not sweating or hyperventilating, so he supposes that it’s an improvement. The sounds of swaying leaves and grass and flowers has him feeling drowsy.

‘N-No! Don’t you dare fall asleep, body, I’ll freaking kill you-!’

He passes out in the middle of the field.

He awakes again sometime later, by the feeling of hands shaking him, and loud laughter. “Keiji, c’mon! You fell asleep in the flowers again!” The hands shaking him are insistent and his eyes flutter open, squinting against the sun that has now risen to its peak in the sky. The person shaking him sounds weirdly familiar, and he focuses on the blob, squinting and rubbing his eyes until he’s focused on the person.

It’s Bokuto. He just stares at Bokuto, cursing himself for managing to forget his own boyfriend’s voice when he realizes that there are more pressing issues that need to be addressed.

‘Bokuto-san! Where are we?! How did we even get here?!’

“Ah, thank you for waking me, Koutarou.”

…

.....

.......

What?

Akaashi’s sure that he didn’t say that of all things…

“No problem, Keiji. That’s my job as your caretaker and all!” Bokuto laughs as if him being Akaashi’s caretaker is a normal thing.

‘Uhm, I don't… understand.’

“It’s really not, Koutarou. You only have to watch to make sure I don’t die.”

What the fuck.

“I guess you’re right,” Bokuto says contemplatively. “But!” He jumps up to his feet. “I enjoy taking care of you, Keiji, so both are okay, right?” Akaashi flushes, and it’s not from the pain that comes with the pictures.

‘Sure, Bokuto-san.’

“Sure, Koutarou.” Akaashi is sure that he’s going insane now. All that he’s managed to gather is that he has no control over his body, and whatever he says, isn’t what he actually ends up saying. It’s almost like he is watching himself and Bokuto-san as a third person, but from the first person, and it was a weird feeling.

He stands, Bokuto-san taking him by the hand and leading him out of the field. He almost considers trying to speak again, but decides against it, figuring that they’d talk on their own. Somehow.

“Are we heading home now, Koutarou?” Bokuto-san flashes him a bright, but bashful grin.

“Yup! The sun’s going to set soon and I really like doing this job right, and that’s hard to do at night because you blend into the beauty of the night!” Akaashi is embarrassed, but the other Akaashi only grunts noncommittally.

“Alright.” Akaashi’s stoicism was almost stronger than it actually was in this- memory? Illusion? He wasn’t sure. What he was sure of, was not seeing the giant mansion behind him. It was gorgeous, all lacquered wood and strong foundation. Bokuto-san ushers him inside.

“Home sweet home, Keiji!” Akaashi thinks he could get used to hearing Bokuto welcome him home like that: all big smiles and sweet words-

“Ah yes. Prison sweet prison.” Akaashi was appalled with himself. This house was gorgeous, probably even going for millions of yen in his era, and he called such a place prison? Bokuto-san pouts at him.

“C’mon, Keiji, don’t be like that. Your family loves you. You know they do. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here!” Akaashi is still reeling from the sudden realization that this is his house, but the other Akaashi answers calmly.

“That is true.” Akaashi groans. It’s like he was an actual robot! And maybe here he is, but he doubts it because there seems to be no metal, or electrical technology around. Bokuto kisses his forehead, brushing his hair back. Akaashi startles again, embarrassed this time.

“Keiji, stop pouting? Please? I’ll take away that pain if you want me to!”

“It’s fine. It’s about time for you to go to your nightly meeting, isn’t it?” Bokuto jumps, looking at the sun again.

“Aw, crap, you’re right! Welp,” Bokuto smacks a loud kiss onto Akaashi’s cheek. “See you later tonight, Keiji!” Bokuto waves him goodbye until he’s around the corner. Akaashi is still frozen by the confusion and awe he feels.

Later in the night, Akaashi feels restless. Bokuto still has yet to come back to his side, and the candle next to his- luxurious, if he can say- bed is surviving on its last breaths. The other Akaashi seems tired of waiting as he goes to blow out the candle. Only, once it’s blown out, light erupts all around him, chorused by wails and shouts and pained shrieks. His bedroom door is slammed open, revealing a battered Bokuto. Blood stains. Blood stains his clothes, his hands, his face, his hair… he’s hardly recognizable from a few hours prior. The other Akaashi gapes and rushes forward with more concern than current Akaashi thought possible.

“Koutarou, what’s happened?” It’s a loaded question if ever Akaashi saw one. (He did- he uses loaded questions of his own all the time.)

Bokuto grabs the other Akaashi by the forearm and drags him out of his room, and then they’re sprinting down the halls, avoiding the pouring light. Bokuto is already panting, clueing in Akaashi to at least a few things. One, he’d been running or at least exerting himself for some time now, and two, he was most likely fighting. What or who he didn’t know.

“It’s- they’re saying it’s the Tanaka’s- and the rest of the tengus-“ Bokuto chokes and pants for air. He drags off his headband, and ties a makeshift mask around Akaashi’s mouth. “Don’t- breathe it, not good,” He pants some more. “Not good for you, you- your lungs, they’ll-“

The wooden beams splinter and crack loudly, falling to the floor in front of them. The fire rages, and only spreads faster. Bokuto curses, picking up Akaashi- who has been weirdly silent the entire run, current Akaashi thinks bitterly, screaming at himself to say, or do, anything. Bokuto jumps out the nearest window with Akaashi curled to his chest. They roll when they hit the ground and when Akaashi gets to look up, he sees the courtyard in absolute chaos.

True to his word, the Tengus are fighting the Fukuro. His family. The word rings in the current Akaashi’s head, and it fully sinks in that, yes, this was his family fighting some mysterious non black and gold people.

“Why?” It’s the first word that the Other Akaashi has uttered the whole run, and current Akaashi feels his heart break at the, once again, loaded question. Bokuto shakes his head furiously.

“I… I don’t know, we have no idea… I was at the meeting and- your parents, and, the rest, they- well, we were ambushed? Your parents were the first to… go. Your mother she- she survived until after the ambushers set fire to the room and she told me to find you. To get you… out. Out of danger, away from- this. And that’s what’s happening. I was actually having to kill the ambushers that we’re making their way to your room, I- Keiji I was so worried,” Bokuto breathes heavily. Akaashi was crying. He wasn’t even sure if he was allowed to be hurt for the situation, but he was touched all the same.

“Now, I- I have to go back. Akaashi, there’s a village over those mountains, the ones you’re always looking at? Your pretty interests,” Bokuto cracks a smile that comes off as more of a grimace as he sets Akaashi on his feet and takes a step back. “I’ll meet you there. But I need you to go- now.”

The other Akaashi bursts into tears. He was silent nearly the entire ride, and emotionless all other times, and it came up all at once. “Myself? I won’t survive by myself. That’s why you’re my guard, I need you to help me, come with me-!” Bokuto shakes his head and takes Akaashi’s hands in his own.

“Keiji, ‘Owl’ ‘Owl’-ways be with you.” He flashes Akaashi a wide grin, dropping something small, hard, and solid in Fukuro’s palm.

And he blacks out.

When he comes to he’s still on his sofa, but it’s dark out. He grumbles a bit, feeling as though the solid object is still in his palm. He jolts, suddenly realizing.

He stumbles off the couch, landing stomach first. He was in Bokuto’s hold until just moments earlier and the loud “Keiji!” that Bokuto let’s out when Akaashi falls is both charming and saddening. He rushes to his room, ignoring Bokuto’s calls for him. He fumbles around his room for the object, knocking things off his dressing, ripping out drawers and sending clothes flying along with other little trinkets that he picked up over the years.

He’s throwing the door open again the same moment Bokuto goes to enter. “Keiji, what’s up-?!”

Akaashi shoves his fist out panting, and he’s crying. “Th-This wasn’t a mistake.”

Bokuto opens his palm, eyes widening in surprise. He coos quietly, slightly teasing. “Akaashiiiii!! You kept it!!”

Akaashi looks down at his hand, where the small clay doll sits comfortably. It’s a gorgeous owl, wings all folded in, but with the beautiful majesty of a snowy owl with bright golden eyes. He laughs wetly. Bokuto had given it to him sometime in his first year when he’d revealed that he loved owls. His elder had lit up similar to a christmas tree, and returned the next day with the small owl.

“It looks just like you.”

Bokuto fills him in on what his memory lacks, where his is still full. The Tengus were a hostile group towards the Fukuros, and had planned to kill the heads of the house, which they succeeded in doing, and taking the eldest either dead or alive- Akaashi. Bokuto explains that he acted to have been killed so as to overhear the ambushers plotting the next move, and he tells Akaashi about how his blood had run cold when he realized Akaashi was the next target. He immediately killed the two remaining ambushers in the room when Akaashi’s mother grabbed his pant leg and practically begged him to save her sons and daughters, but she said pleadingly, “Please, get Keiji out of here, Kou, please. His lungs won’t last him a minute in the coming smoke- please, Kou.”

As it turns out, Akaashi had weak lungs- some sort of lung disease that ran in the family, which was why Akaashi needed a guard, and why he had so many siblings. “Your parents were expected to hold up the bloodline, so they did. They had you, your two sisters, and your three brothers, until your mother and father were no longer able to have kids.”

He recounts running down the mansion’s halls, killing anybody who wasn’t in black, white, and gold- the mansion’s dress code. He tells Akaashi how the wallpaper was curling and peeling off the walls because of the fire, and how the wooden beams creaked. He tells about the fear he felt as there were suddenly no ambushers near his room, but heavy fire. He had feared the worst, slamming the door open, and seeing Akaashi fully intact- “Keiji, it was serious shit! I almost cried on the spot!”

Akaashi says he remembers that moment, up until where Bokuto made him leave at the mountains. Akaashi holds up the clay doll; a silent question. Bokuto smiles softly, tightening his grip. “I made it as a betrothal gift, initially, but the meeting that night was to have your parents discuss your marriage, so I gave you it as reassurance instead!” Akaashi’s chest aches.

He tells Akaashi that after he went over the mountain (“It took a lot of coaxing, Keiji! You were so stubborn, jeez.”) that he went back to the mansion to see if he could find any of Akaashi’s siblings. He delicately states that they didn’t make it. “They were worse for wear. Your baby sister, she… it was a horrible sight, Keiji.”

He even tells Akaashi that after the fight was over, and that he’d managed to send a message to Akaashi’s grandfather, requesting his short return, that he set out to find him again. “I crossed the mountains and made my way to the village. They said they’d never even seen you come in, Keiji. It was awful. A week later, the village chief got word from the next town over that you were sold into the red district, and I…” Bokuto’s fingertips duh harshly into Akaashi’s sides. “Keiji, they sold you off as a prostitute. I finally found you- months later, and you- you were different? It was weird. I’m guessing they managed to do something awful to you, because when I saw you the next day you were dead.”

Akaashi’s blood runs cold.

“Keiji, they- they claimed it was an accident, but it wasn’t. It was- so obvious, that- once I came to bring you back, you were gone. It- it felt like some kind of sick joke, but it wasn’t. You were dead, and they said that they buried you in the snow. I searched for your body for hours, Keiji. All I found was my stupid clay owl.” Bokuto laughs wryly, hands digging into his eyes, and Akaashi is lost for words. Bokuto sighs loudly.

“This was, like, three centuries ago, and it still fucks me up by what happened to you. It was the first time I lost you.”

Akaashi turns in his laps, and wipes Bokuto’s tears with his thumbs. He offers a sad smile.

“The owl really does look like you, Koutarou.” Bokuto laughs.

“You keep saying that, Keiji.” Akaashi hums.

“It does. Your eyes match the doll’s, and the feathers coloring matches your hair. And, I suppose in a great deal of irony, that the snowy owl reminds us of the day we left one another, officially.” Bokuto sobs, and it’s kinda dramatic, but Akaashi finds it endearing.

“So? What else do you remember about my late family?” Bokuto hums, sniffing as his nose runs grossly.

“Well, after that day, I cursed the gods for what had happened to you, and accidentally got us cursed by them? So like, we keep getting reincarnated until the gods know when, and basically I’ll fall in love with you over and over until the cycle is somehow broken, but you have every choice to not love me, so. It was my fault we’re in this mess,” Bokuto huffs. “This cycle is pretty shitty. Your most previous life fuckin’ sucked- like it was the absolute fuckin’ worst-” Akaashi slaps his arm, and tells him to watch his language. “Because I met you- because that’s also a part of the curse, I’ll always meet you before I’m- like, thirty?- and you never loved me. Not once.”

Akaashi frowns. “That can’t be true.”

Bokuto holds a finger to his face and tuts. “Ah, but it was, oh young one! You loved your wife, and you weren’t interested in me in the slightest.” Akaashi shoves him.

“Not buying it. I’ll tell you my side of the story once I remember it.” Bokuto laughs.

“Sure thing, baby. But I’m telling you, you weren’t even interested in me.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Bokuto just keeps laughing that bright happy laugh with his big stupid kissable face and Akaashi kinda wants to punch him for it.

“Anything else?” Bokuto grumbles.

“Yea, but… not much. And, it’s not great. Like, at all. It all sucks.” Akaashi scoffs.

“The whole story sucks. Just tell me.” (“Ah, Keiji’s right.”)

“Well, alright. When I arrived back at the Fukuro house, it was completely destroyed. There were remaining Tengus hanging around apparently, and they’d burned the place to the ground. It smelled like burnt wood, burnt flesh, rotting bodies… kind of like a campfire gone wrong? Your grandfather, he… he was killed- I found him in the wreckage. He was pushing ninety, so I’m only assuming that he died from inhaling smoke. But I didn’t find any of your siblings. Couldn’t find them. Your baby sister I told you about, but your other brothers and sister… I never found them. I spent the whole day, multiple days, I think the whole week burying the dead and setting up gravestones.

“When I got back, there was… nothing for me to return to. Your family home was burned to ground, along with the people inside.”

“...I see.”

Bokuto sighs, rocking him back and forth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;(
> 
> spoilers/clarifications
> 
> \- set in medieval china, Akaashi was born into a rich family with a history of weak lungs, so they’re most susceptible to fire, which is why the tengus chose fire!
> 
> \- at the end of the memory it says “Fukuro’s palm.” Fukuro is Keiji’s family name at the time, so Bokuto’s family name is also different- i just couldn’t think of one: that’s a part of the cycle. new family name, same first name.
> 
> \- the tengus are basically Karasuno. i included the tanakas bc i was like “hotheaded, would think to use fire...” me: “big sis saeko.” the Tengus are also a rich family like the Fukuros. it was some economic despite that started the violence
> 
> \- if you skimmed the clay doll part, its a snowy owl. it’s foreshadowing for Keiji’s death in winter. no the doll did not carry over generations: Bokuto carved the owl again and gave it to Keiji as a gift of friendship in his first year.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a basis for the next chapter which WILL BE SAD, spoiler warning ;)
> 
> but like, not really. i’ve already started writing it because no self control, but honestly i’m trying a new writing style with less dialogue and more imagery and description bc i have too much dialogue for a one shot that doesn’t really need dialogue LMAOAO


End file.
